More stuff

As I ruminate this Christmas season over what to buy and for whom, I think about my grandmother's house and the belongings within. She and her husband accumulated lots of stuff. Not that they were hoarders by any means, and not that they boasted over their collection of goods, and not that they were excessive at all, and not that they had some deep psychological fear of not having things, yet in spite of their moderation and frugality, they acquired a lot of things. This is not dissimilar to most people. We have lots of stuff these days.

While we tend to complain about the excessive commercialism of Christmas, we don't really do anything about it. We continue to go shopping and buy things for our family and friends. We add to the stuff. Of course if the stuff weren't so readily available, perhaps we wouldn't be tempted to add to our growing collection of more stuff. Not sure though. It is easy to cogitate on the truths of Christmas and to recognize that gifts are merely an expression of our love for each other and a way to say thanks to those who mean so much to us, and to be a manifestation of the wise men who traveled so far to give gifts to the King, but less easy to make a change to our system.

Not that anyone really wants to by the way, but it does seem to me that we are acquiring too many things. Materialism is a disease and one that we seem to like. I cannot claim innocence in this department myself as I look at several hundred books, a new truck, nice clothes, and many odds and ends. On the one hand, it is easy for me to criticize the acquisition of things that will get thrown away at some point, but I participate in my own brand of materialism through books, music, and electronics. It is almost cultural, inherent, natural, and decidedly required for us to seek out more. While this in and of itself adds to the progression of life, to its refinement, its creativity, and yes to some extent its joy, it can also inhibit the deeper purpose of who we are.

At some point, and that point cannot be determined, it would be worthwhile to examine our malignant materialism in terms of pragmatism, aestheticism, comfort, and entertainment. If we pare everything down to one of those four categories, we discover that many things can go away, and those items can be labeled non-essential in the human sense. Subsequently, it may be time for us to simplify our existence in a kind of deliberate moving away from property multi-tasking. Since everything we have is property in some sense, focusing on one item at a time is a move against the ADD that infects all of us.

Meanwhile, it is much easier stated than acted upon, and I suspect that my children will one day have to deal with all the stuff we leave. Maybe some of it has monetary value or sentimental value, but I suspect that much of it, ultimately, will end up at the dumpster and covered with dirt. In fact I would guess there are mountains of junk that are buried, and on top of those mountains, we will once again have green grass! I am reminded that my legacy is not determined by my things but rather by my contributions, my family, my work, my compassion, and my love for others.